


He Tastes Like You, Only Sweeter

by peachwentz



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Face-Fucking, Facials, IM SO SORRY I HAVENT WRITTEN THIS EVER, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, also ignore the bad format this was typed on my phooooone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachwentz/pseuds/peachwentz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Joe, Andy, and Peter are casual sex buddies, and Pete gets jealous Joe is drunkenly hanging on a girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Tastes Like You, Only Sweeter

**Author's Note:**

> written based on an anonymous tumblr prompt. typed and published on my phone, words in forward slashes are italic!

The beauty and simplicity of casual sex, is that it's just that: casual. There are no "I love you"'s. There are no dinner dates, no fights, no complex elements of romance. Casual sex is just casual sex in its raw, unfiltered, primal form. Pete had always appreciated it for what it was, although, it had been hard for him to draw lines between pleasure and real feelings.

Andy and Joe had been having casual sex for almost as long as they'd been friends. They'd added Pete as a member of their inner circle only within the past six months, and they were still trying to work out the dynamic. Everyone liked it, so far, and they hadn't seemed to have any problems. Usually, Pete was the sub, taking Andy and Joe, but sometimes, it was Joe taking one, or both. Despite the sex being casual, they definitely looked out for each other, and had tight bonds in their friendship. 

Post-show. Sweaty, high on adrenaline. Ready to drink and go another couples hours at a club. Andy had been Sober Sally for years, and nothing had changed, so he was stuck babysitting two fully grown men at a dive bar outside some lost, long forgotten town in Missouri. Joe had been playing punk on the jukebox for over an hour, and the ten or so people on the stools were getting pissed. There was a girl, a few years younger than him, hanging around the jukebox and handing him quarters, giggling and twirling her hair. She obviously had been to the show. She had short hair, a Green Day shirt, and a ring in her nose. Cute, but definitely not worth the scrutiny of fucking a fan. 

For some reason, the thought of Joe hooking up with anyone but him, anyone but Andy, made Pete's blood absolutely boil. He thought about Joe's hands on her, touching her in all the right places while her head was tipped back and she was whispering everything he wanted to hear. It disgusted him. He thought about Joe's cock sliding into her, and the sound she would make, the way she'd pull on his hair and tell him she wanted him harder. Everything in Pete's head was completely hypothetical, but he felt like he was losing it. "Get Joe," He grunted at Andy, finishing his umpteenth beer and gesturing off in the vague direction of his friend, who was definitely taking Obvious Fall Out Boy Fan's bait and giggling right back.

Andy seemed puzzled, but regardless, it was a good time to snag his friends and head back to the hotel. They were both pliant drunks, so it didn't matter much when the scrubby drummer touched Joe's arm and prompted him to leave. Joe, giggling and swimming in shots, turned and grabbed Andy's thick, muscular arm, and stumbled over to Pete. 

"She was trying to hookup with you!" The bassist spat.

Joe looked taken aback, but he furrowed up his brow and pushed his body against Pete's as they walked, Andy holding them both up by the backs of their shirts. "Naw, naw. She liked Black Flag, though."

Pete whined, and grabbed one of Joe's belt loops. The hotel was next door to the bar, thankfully, if it could've even been called a hotel. Andy pulled both boys through the front door, toward the elevator, and to the top floor. Before the elevator had even reached floor eleven, Joe was whining under Pete's hand, and their mouths were locked together in a primal duel for dominance with their tongues. 

"Save it, there's security cameras in here," Andy mumbled, pulling on Pete's arm, which of course made Joe follow. Their room wasn't terrible, but nothing like the five stars they had in New York City or Miami, or even places like Columbus and Charleston. 

Joe pushed Pete down on the mattress, and the bassist growled before grabbing one of the younger boy's tattooed wrists, midway to his zipper. "No. I /saw you/ flirting with that girl, huh? I guess you forgot who you've been fucking?"

Nobody expected it from Pete of all people, and immediately, Joe went limp and smirked. "Why? Does...Does that make you /maaad/?" He asked, blissfully drunk. Andy was kneeling on the mattress, watching it play out, and his shorts seemed to get tighter when he saw Joe unzip his own jeans. "Do you wanna fuck me instead?"

Pete sat up and watched as Joe rolled over on his stomach, unprompted, and raised up his ass, then his head. Andy couldn't waist anymore time, and he moved to be in front of Joe, shorts long gone, cock half-hard and pointing accusingly at the curly haired guitarist. "Come on. Suck."

Like a dog on a bone, it didn't take anymore prompting for Joe to pitch forward and get a mouthful of Andy. He was thick and heavy, and the trimmed coarse hairs around his base lied flat against his skin. Andy's tan line was stark against the pale skin below it, and Joe closed his eyes to focus solely on the drummer's cock. He sucked and let his tongue lave against the shaft, Andy rocking his hips slowly. Pete on the other hand, had gotten out of his skintight jeans, and had his hand flying along his cock, groaning and squeezing his balls with his other hand. 

Swiftly, he pulled Joe's jeans and boxers to his ankles, and plunged one spit-slick finger into the scrawny guitarist. The lube was tucked into some side pocket of someone's back, and Pete could absolutely not be bothered to dig it out. "M'gonna fuck you just how you were gonna fuck her," He hissed, using a liberal amount of spit to wedge in a second finger. Joe made a sinful noise and keeled forward, making a soft choking noise around Andy's hard-on. "Take it," He said, which made Pete smirk. 

The oldest boy had his fingers crooked right against Joe's prostate, and his thick curls had already started to stick to his forehead. He made another noise, muffled by Andy's cock, and Pete didn't care enough to ask what he said to pause. 

The drummer pulled Joe's head away by his hair, then slowly fed his cock back into Joe's mouth, and smirked as he watched. "You ready for Pete? You ready for him to fuck you?" Andy asked, brushing Joe's hair from his face and watching his saliva dribble down his chin. 

By that point, Pete had managed to fish some lotion out of the nightstand, but that was it. He had three fingers in Joe, rocking steadily, and was fucking his fist with the other. The guitarist made a noise, and Andy guided Joe's head all the way to his balls as Pete extracted his fingers, rolled a condom on, and pushed into him.

The act of sex itself was hard and rough. Joe was whimpering and choking and doing his best not to bite Andy, and he was rolling his body to fuck against the mattress for any friction he could get. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, and Joe let his jaw go slack while the force of Pete's hips pressed him further down Andy's cock, causing his nose to hit the ink surrounding his pubic bones. 

It didn't last long, but it didn't need to. First, it was Andy, yanking Joe's head off and coming thickly all over his face, leaving the youngest boy with closed eyes and desperately gaping lips, hoping for a taste. Next, it was Joe, whimpering and shuddering and rolling back against Pete, coming hard all over the hotel sheets, with the bassist following, spilling into the condom and using erratic thrusts through his orgasm. 

"Don't try and fuck girls," Pete panted, keeling over and smirking.


End file.
